


And This Is Why, She Said

by Arcaratus



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, I have a test tomorrow, Is binging OUAT bad?, Kind of overdone?, LALALALALAL, Totally NOT a waste of my time, anything else?, such a waste of precious time......
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5827999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcaratus/pseuds/Arcaratus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, I have a supposedly unpassable test tomorrow, and I hate studying. And I know, hate is a strong, strong word. So, I was watching OUaT, because wasting of time is a brilliant thing, and I decided to try my hand at a SwanQueen AU. If it sucks, do say it. NICELY. Happy reading!</p><p>Oh yeah. Forgot this. Regina's a  medical genius, Emma's a reporter, who really wants to keep her job. Meddling best friends, and now, you have... Something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Karma Exists

“Again, why am I doing this?” Emma Swan was not in a good mood. First, she had a hangover. Like, a supreme, knock you on your ass level hangover. Second, it was an unearthly hour in the morning. She wasn’t even sure why she was awake. Oh yeah. Her  _ supposed _ best friend, key-word being supposed, had decided it was a good idea for her to accompany her to some weird save-the-Earth convention to try and impress some girl. See? She was a good friend! (She was actually waiting for Mulan to fail, and laugh the rest of the way to work)

“Because you’re my friend.”

“Friends don’t make their friends wake up before the sun with a massive hangover and tell them to listen to a bunch of hippies talk about saving the planet by ‘using less of this, this, this, and that’.”

“Sure they do!”

“Not when they’re only going through that to impress a girl who’s very clearly not into girls, they don’t.” Let nobody ever say that Emma Swan couldn’t snark you all the way past Snarksville.

“How do you know?” Mulan challenged.

“You know that she goes to those meetings, where they condemn us gays, and she literally speaks with a holier-than-thou attitude to everyone. Including her little boy toy. You know that, right?” Emma pointed out. She may hate Mulan right now, but she wouldn’t allow her friend to be hurt. Especially by that… girl. No, she was not that annoyed. Mostly.

Mulan bit her lip, before replying, “Well, still. People change.”

“Oh good heavens,” Emma sighed, “It’s. Not. Happening. Just stop it, and don’t let her break your heart. Again.”

“It was just one time!” Mulan protested.

“You literally could have bought another car with all the money you spent drowning your sorrows in alcohol. Not that I care, but still.” Emma really wondered how her friend managed to fall in love so easily. Especially when it was with the worst sort of people for a girl to fall in love with.

“So? No, don’t you answer that.”

Emma opened her mouth, ready to reply, and then Mulan jabbed her in the stomach. Hard. “Ou-” Mulan covered her mouth with her hand, hastily pushing Emma behind her, for the girl of her “dreams” had just approached. 

“Oh, Lan! I’m so glad you could make it!” 

Mulan smiled brightly, “So am I! I love the Earth. Did you know that my name means flower in Chinese? I feel that I have - a connection to the planet, and I should do everything I can to preserve its beauty.”

The girl smiled benignly, before turning to Emma, who was doing everything in her power to stifle her laughter. “And who are you? Are you Lan’s friend?”

“Mulan.” Emma automatically corrected, before grimacing at her reaction. “Sorry, it’s just that Mulan doesn’t usually like to be called that.”

“REALLY?” The girl widened her eyes. “Mulan, why didn’t you tell me that?”  
“No, it’s fine,” Mulan reassured her “friend”, before turning and hissing in Emma’s ear, “Leave, now.”

Emma paled at the tone in her friend’s voice, and squeaked out. “Well, as lovely as it has been to meet you…” 

“Aurora, Aurora Stèfan.”

“Right, cool. Anyways, I’m going to get a drink, anything you guys want?”

“So early? The sun has barely risen!” Aurora cried in distress.

“No! No, no, I meant that, you know, like, a drink, maybe some - juice?” Emma tried.

Aurora seemed excited at the prospect of that, and Mulan nodded, “Can you get me some… Lemonade?” She tried.

Emma nodded quickly, refusing to meet her friend’s eyes, and turned to face Aurora, “And you? Would you like anything to drink?”

“Some water would be fine. Wouldn’t want to overdo it on the whole, using the earth’s resources front, right?” She smiled, in what would be a completely snobby way, if it weren’t for the fact that she was wearing a floral dress, and a necklace made out of dried vegetable - carrot - pieces.

“Riggghht.” Emma turned away. “Wait,” She turned back, “Laaaaan, you totally oh me a new exclusive after this.”

“Badminton, or Tennis?”

“Tennis. The U.S. Open’s up, if you win, you’ll be the youngest person to win a Calendar Year Grand Slam, and I totally want to be the one to get the scoop.”

“Fine. And then, with that, you can continue to be a little vegetable muncher, and spread your “words of wisdom” (The air quotes were practically heard) to the world on animals, and how they have feelings, just like us, and it’s our job to be fair to them, and all that jazz. You know, if it weren’t for me, you would not be even in a job with -  what was it - the-”

“It’s the Times, honestly, pick up a newspaper and read it, would ya’?” Emma asked.

“Nope.”

“Neanderthal.”  
“Right.” Mulan snorted, “Go tell people that animals should also be allowed to vote.”

“Maybe I will.”

“You write for a newspaper?” Aurora asked.

“Yep!” If there was one thing Emma Swan was proud of in her life, it was not being the first one to get an interview from Tennis/Badminton player Mulan Hua, but the fact that she had a healthy, stable job in the Times, and very nearly her own weekly column. Take that, Sister Superior!

Aurora, however, was not so impressed. She gasped in horror. “All the paper… All the waste…” And, she fainted. 

“Okay then… so it looks like your friend’s not as proud as I am of my job, no worries! I’ll go get your drinks!” Emma said, eager to get the hell away from Mulan’s glare.

Annnd promptly ran into someone holding a drink. Which spilled, by the way, on the lady’s very expensive looking blouse. Which then made the lady in turn glare at Emma. And Emma suddenly wished that she had the power of teleportation, or at least invisibility. Because that glare was  _ dangerous _ . One should not cross someone with a glare like that. Especially young, innocent Emma Swan’s. Emma gulped, and tried her best to look abashed, while not seeming like a kid whose hand has been caught in the proverbial cookie jar. 

“And who, pray tell, do you think you are, running into people all willy nilly?” And icy voice bit out, obviously  _ not _ in a good mood.

“Uhhhm, well, you see, it’s just that, well,” Emma began, not really managing to sound like anything but an idiot.

“Obviously, you haven’t been thinking, have you?”

Quietly steaming - but acknowledging that really, this was quite deserved, Emma only managed to say a simple, “No,” before shutting up.

“Well, dear, maybe you should try to, more often. Who knows, it might help you one day.” The lady, for obviously the speaker was a lady, said. “If you can manage, of course.” and then added that on, apparently just for good measure.

Now, Emma wasn’t an unreasonably person by any means, but really. That was just rude. “Listen, lady, I don’t care how rich, powerful, or whatever you are. You really shouldn’t just be that rude to someone, especially when they’re sorry, and admitted that they’re wrong. So maybe,” She bit out, “If you weren’t such a bitch, this wouldn’t have happened. Karma’s a real thing, you know.”

“Really? And what makes you’re not the one that’s acting like an unreasonable little piece of shit?” And that tone - that was the one that made little kids dream terrible things, and confess to all their sins to their parents, that voice was the one that made things happen. And scared the living daylights out of anyone with half a brain.

“I don’t know, maybe the whole holier-than-thou attitude you’ve got going there?” Emma asked, sarcastic to the figurative end.

“Excuse me?” And as the voice got softer, it got ever the more deadlier, “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“Not really.” 

“REaally.” Emma could just imagine the raised eyebrow that accompanied that statement. And thought the voice got even softer, it seemed more - amused - than anything. That was good, right? 

“Nope.” Emma popped the p. And then looked up. And then her eyes widened, and perspiration that had already begun to form began to simply force itself out into the world, and Emma knew, from that moment, that she was done for. That voice she might not know, but that face. Really? Who could not recognize that face? “Uhhhhm.” She stuttered, really, why was she always being this illiterate? She was a writer for goddamn sake!

“Now, isn’t that better?” Maleficent Drayonas purred, for surely, no other person could the lady be.

And Emma knew, she was done for. If there was a single person alive today, whose opinions could actually change a career this isolated on the food chain, it was her. Maleficent Drayonas, the favorite for the Democratic party, the starter, CEO, and Chairwoman of the Board of Directors for Dragon Tech, spearheader of more charities than can be counted, and on numerous boards for other companies, charities, and oh yeah, she was Governor of New York. And she was only 29 years of age, because apparently awesomeness  didn’t matter when it came to age. She was, as if it wasn’t enough, publicly out as the L, when it came to LGBT. Did Emma forget to mention that she was like, the only reason that she, like, decided to, like, move all the way, like, from Boston to work in the destroyer of dreams that, like, New York was known for? Oooops. Maybe. Oh well, Boston was supposed to be reallllly quite nice this time of year, right?

“Hello?” Maleficent asked, very interested in how  _ this _ one would react to her. She had to get her entertainment somehow, right?

“Hmm? Oh yeah, right. Ms. Drayonas, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see where I was going! Please don’t kill me!” The last part was squeaked out blindly, for Emma had decided that ostrich logic and a tiny demeanor would help her out of her situation. (Really, it wouldn’t)

“Oh darling, that would be terrible for my ratings, don’t you think?”

“Uhhhm, yes?”

“Well good! We have an agreement. Now, why don’t I escort you to the drink stand, where I’m very disheartened to inform you that there is no alcohol for consumption. Such a shame, I know.”

“Whh...Whhhy...Why do you think that I would be going to get alcohol.?”

“Dear,” Maleficent sighed in sympathy for the poor thing, “Really, or are you going to tell me that your intention for a drink did not include alcohol? Because if it did not, I truly wish to apologize for my assumption. Now, if it didn’t, well,” Maleficent shrugged. And then she took out her phone, tapped a few words out, sent the message, closed her phone, put it away, and spun on her heel towards - probably - the drink stand. “Coming darling?”

Of course, like any sane person, Emma followed the lady who knew where the drinks were. (The fact that it was probably all juice - and, if they were daring - soda - daring! - had no use trying to insert itself into Emma’s thought process)

One wholesome hour of conversation later, our two ladies were accosted by one annoyed looking Asian American Tennis/Badminton star, and one extremely annoyed lady with much too expensive clothes, who looked wholly out of place in the convention.

“Why? Why have I been looking for you for nearly an hour, and only now, do I find you, with a drink, and talking to - holy shit - is that Maleficent Drayonas?” Mulan asked.

“Yep.” Emma was proud that she managed to not scream and geek out over that.

“Darling,” The other woman began, “Could you please explain to me why only now do I find you, after  **you** were the one who coerced me into attending this pointless hippie meeting, and that after I sent you fifty, FIFTY! Texts asking for you to come save you, I find you chatting up a blonde that looks abnormally like you? And why have I not gotten my caffeine yet?!” At the end of her tirade, the woman looked ready to kill someone. (Maybe she was?)

“Rey! Look! This is that girl! That one who spilled your coffee over me!” Maleficent pointed to Emma, who suddenly felt very, very small.

“Hi?” She waved. (In the background, Mulan groaned. It was very obvious that Emma had a total crush on the admittedly hot woman who looked about ready to kill someone.

“You’re the reason that I haven’t gotten my daily dose of caffeine?” And she turned her murderous glare to poor, poor Emma.

“Yes?”

“Yeah! And she makes for great conversation.” Maleficent chipped in enthusiastically, a wonderful plan already forming in her mind. “Rey! Why don’t you go on a date with her? I know you love blondes!” Maleficent winked.

“Yeah, why not?” Emma asked, as suavely as she could possibly manage. (It was quite pitiful, really)

“No.”


	2. Coffee, Reading Between the Lines, and More Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet. Somebody loses their coffee. And then somebody learns about life outside a bubble. (And Emma's a baby) Wah.

**Guess what? I made a friend edit it and turned it into third person, because it sounds better. And it took an unreasonably large amount of time to do so, too.**

Emma's walking along the street, at another ungodly hour in the morning, and seriously contemplating maiming Mulan. Permanently. Scratch that. She wants to kill her. As soon as she's made her decision, however, she's forced to reconsider. Because right now, Mulan's actually her favorite person that ever lived. Even if she's the reason Emma's out on a coffee run at 5:13 in the morning (with another hangover), Mulan did just make her cross paths with that hot lady that said no to the offer of a date. And if there is anything that Emma was good at, it was annoying people until eventually, they said yes. (Or filed a restraining order)

So she does what any reasonable person would do when confronted with a potentially hazardous situation. She yells. "Hey nameless person who's name I really want to know 'cause you're really hot!"

She's obviously startled. How does Emma know this? Well, it's quite simple, really. She jerks her head up in what must be surprise, and then spills her coffee. Over her blouse. Her _white_ blouse. Her white silk blouse that most definitely cost more than Emma's next three months' rent. Oooops.

She looks around, as if she doesn't know _exactly_ who just called for her, and when her eyes finally, after an eternity spent looking around with fierce determination in her eyes, her eyes land on Emma. And that look, that freezing, ice cold look in her eyes? They tell her something quite simple. She's going to die. And once again, she acts like a very unreasonable person. She doesn't run. Instead, she just stands there, staring at the woman who's getting closer, and closer, and suddenly, she's right in front of her, glaring at her until she reaches the ends of the earth. (It's not a very pleasant feeling,in her opinion)

"What, may I ask, did you think when you decided to yell at me when I was not only holding a cup of steaming hot coffee, but also the one thing in the world, right now that holds all the information that could potentially restructure everything you know about humans and the world?" She waves her unrealistically high tech phone in front of Emma's face, and she resists the urge to take it and throw it somewhere far, far away. "And," Oh, she's not done.

"Yes?" Emma asks, in her most absolutely terrible, simply atrocious version of being brave, and oh, yea, she just noticed that lowering of the eyes - and oh, yep, she's screwed. Did she forget to mention that her current will would be giving all of her possessions to Fluffy Boom Boom the pile of fluff? She should really fix that. Maybe give it to Mulan, and make her pay all of her debt? Yeah, that's a good punishment for making her go through all this.

"It has my invitation to speak in the Engraves' Society meeting this fall." The woman replies, resplendent in all her righteous indignation. And it is being directed at Emma. Joy.

"Oh, well, sorry…" she apologizes, because what else is there to do? It isn't like she can offer anything more - she is the reason that all of that, errm, important stuff was nearly lost, after all.

"Sorry really wouldn't be enough to fix the potential damages. You are very lucky that my phone is not only waterproof, it is also shockproof, fireproof, bombproof, bulletproof, and most importantly, childproof." As she's saying this, Emma can literally feel the disapproval in her words, and she notices how similar this woman is to her friend, the magnificent Maleficent Drayonas. And then Emma wonders how much she wishes that Mulan did not exist right now. Again. Because what she just did? That was not well thought out. At all.

Wait. Emma goes back to listening to the woman, and she catches the tail end of her little speech. She pauses. Rewinds. Listens again. Annnnnnd there it is. "Are you kidding me?" Emma yells out, 'cause seriously? "Your phone could fucking go through World War Ⅲ, come back spick and span, and you're angry that I got **you** to spill some coffee on it? Lady! I don't know what world you live in, but it's obviously not reality!" She is quite annoyed. She goes through all that angst on herself for all of five minutes, and then the woman tells her that there is really no need to worry, because her phone is like a fucking bomb shelter in one tiny, compact-mirror sized package.

The lady looks affronted at Emma's tirade. "Well, there may not have been any negative consequences due to the fact that my job is very important, and preserving all the information stored in it is crucial, but just because you got lucky once doesn't mean that it will happen again, and you get away, scot-free you know." Now she just sounds like Mother Nova, with that disapproving 'look at what this child did wrong' voice.

And Emma is feeling inexplicably small. Like a child.

And she kind of hates to admit it, but the lady's kind of right. Her logic is sound (At least it seems quite sound), and once again, Emma is the only one at fault. "Well," she begins.

Before she can continue however, the woman speaks up. Again. "Don't make excuses. You are the one at fault. Simply admit it, and we can get on our merry way, okay?"

Emma is seriously hating every deity that ever decided that this was how her life should play out because really? It kind of sucks. "I'm sorry, okay? I was stupid, unthinking, and I could have messed up more than just your freakishly expensive shirt. I'm very, very sorry. Is there anything else, or can I be on my way?" She thinks she's covered it all, but then the lady says something, unexpected, to say the least.

"Do you have anywhere to be?" She seems - nervous? Impossible. The very thought is preposterous to even entertain, and yet, it seems so.

Emma checks her watch. Well, she's probably going to miss everything anyway - she's only worth giving the time of day to when there's a competition coming up involving balls, racquets, and ladies. "Do you?" she challenges.

In an imitation of Emma, the lady checks her watch, contemplates something, and then replies. "No."

Emma thinks she's going to finish, but she doesn't. "Going to leave me hanging, like last time?"

"No."

"Sooooo, is that supposed to mean something?"

"Not really," She trails off, and Emma holds her breath, anxious for an actual thing to hold onto, "No." And then there's that.

"Soooooo…" This is quickly getting awkward, but she doesn't wish that to happen - she enjoys this woman's company, it's different from what she's experienced in the past with strangers whose coffee she's spilled all over themselves and their costly apparel.

The woman raises an eyebrow, and Emma realizes that she's waiting for something, more specifically, someone. She's waiting for her to do something. What? And then it comes to Emma.

"Well, since I spilled your coffee, would you like another one?" She asks, praying to all that is holy that she did the right thing.

The smirk is the giveaway. "Why, that would be..." A pause, but from what Emma's gathered of this woman, that seems reasonable, "...Acceptable."

Emma releases a breath that she had no idea she was holding in relief. It seems, that in such a short span of time, this woman's thoughts, beliefs, and opinions (They're basically the same) have started to matter a completely unrealistic amount to her. And, it's not a wholly unpleasant thought. Huh. Maybe she really should start thinking more about her life, if this stranger can change so much in mere minutes, what else has changed? Who is Emma really? Just a portmanteau of various characters she's met in her past? She thinks about Mother Superior, and shudders. That's a very frightening thought that should not even exist, and Emma banishes it, into the dark corners of her mind, forever gone from everything. (As if she could be so lucky) And then she notices the woman looking at you curiously, and Emma blushes. "Sorry, I drifted. Were you saying something?"

She inclines her head in acceptance of her words, before speaking, "I was merely proposing that we move this to the shop? Unless you'd prefer to stand outside all day."

"Ummm, yea. Okay."

The woman nods, and Emma enters the the shop, holding the door open behind her, hoping to seem courteous, but not overly so. "Didn't really peg you as a hole in the wall coffee shop kind of girl," She comments offhandedly, not noticing the flinch that comes with the words when she says them.

"Really? Whyever not?" The woman asks coolly, but Emma can tell that she's done something wrong. Majorly wrong.

"IDK," she shrugs, trying to figure out a way to diffuse the air of 'don't push it, dear' that's literally emanating from the lady. "Thought you'd be more...Starbucks. You seem like that kind of woman."

"Really. Now, what had led you down such a path?" She asks.

"Ehhh, no idea." Emma shrugs, because what more could she do? Say that 'well, I really don't know anything about you, and all my assuming is just getting in more trouble, and well, I'm kind of not the brightest person around, please don't kill me?' Yeah, that'd work.

"You sure?" She presses, and oh, why must the people you associate with be so stubborn?

"P...Pre...Pretty sure, yea." Emma finishes the sentence in a meek whisper.

"Well, than I'll just have to prove you wrong, no?" And then the woman does something that's simply astounding, she says, "Thank you for holding the door open."

And yes, Emma thinks, you've just been proven wrong already.

So she enters the coffee shop, orders their drinks, she pays for it, and then both of them take a seat. And then stare. Awkwardly. What is one supposed to do after spilling another's drink, buying a new one, and then being forced to spend some time with said person. (Not that Emma disapproves of such an idea, but still)

And then the woman takes out her phone, and starts tapping out what is presumably words.

So Emma does the only normal thing one should do. "You're not really helping your case."

Smooth.

"Pardon?" She looks up.

Emma gulps.

She really needs to evaluate her life choices, because in the past 24 hours, she seems to have managed to endanger her life only a mere four times.

"Ehhhhhhh, nothing!"

"No really, I'm interested in what you think I am." The lady leans forward, as if to punctuate her statement.

"Well, uhhm, you see, it's just that,"

"Today," She taps her foot - impatient.

"It seems like you're just the average pampered princess with ridiculously expensive clothes, connections, and a tendency to never work." Emma thinks she sounds confident, assured in what she just said, but then she sees the woman's glare, "And an uncanny skill to scare the pants off anyone," she squeaks out at the last second - better late than never, right?

"Excuse me?" She looks positively furious. "I'll have you know that I earned what I have, and just because I come from a well off family does not mean that I am pampered, spoiled, or in any way whatsoever unwilling to work. It's not my fault that you didn't have the initiative as a child to excel, and your current position reflects that." She really can scare the pants off anyone, Emma notices. (Or, not scare, but still, same effect) "And thank you," she adds.

So, apparently that was a compliment. "Oh, no! I had to work in order to help pay for all my clothes that I probably will only wear once, or gasp! Even twice!" Emma says, in a terrible imitation of a rich 'daddy's girl' princess. "Why don't you look above your phone, and see the rest of the **real** world?" This lady scares her, and that was probably the worst idea she's had since (check watch) fourteen minutes and fifty-six seconds ago. Still, Emma's not going down easy.

And now she looks downright murderous. "Do you know," She hisses, in deadly whisper, "What I have had to give up, simply to stay under the radar, and live up to ridiculous expectations? Make sure that neither I, nor my sister have to feel the wrath of somebody known as the Queen of Hearts - who is also my mother - and the Dark One? I have had to literally risk everything," She breaks of, sounding anguished, in an immeasurable amount of pain, and momentarily, Emma feels bad. Momentarily. "Everything! My friends, my family, my _life._ " She glares at her, as if Emma is the cause of all this. (She kind of is) "And you care about my clothes? The ones that I had to beg for from my friends just to appear professional enough in a place where a man dressed like a frat boy gets more respect than a woman in a three-piece suit and tie? Really?" She laughs bitterly, and now Emma really does feel bad. Damn it nameless woman who makes her feel like she just kicked a puppy!

"Sorry?"

After recomposing herself, the woman looks at Emma, as if she sounds absolutely crazy. She just made her rethink all of her terrible past, and Emma just says sorry? Still, the woman has self control. Lots of it. Unlike Emma. "But hey, my life hasn't been a cakewalk either, you know. I don't even _have_ parents that I know of, let alone know if they ever cared about me, thought about me, or even just remember my existence! And I rose from nothing. Nothing! And I have a career ahead of me, and a life. What did you do? Oooh! I studied at school for a lot, since I didn't have to worry about staying **alive** and now I'm successful, and everyone else's sob story doesn't really matter."

"You're a foster child?"

"Is that all you got from that?" Emma throws her hands up in frustration, because really?

"Yes?"

"Uggh."

And there's that damned smirk.

"You know," Emma says, "I was really secure in who I was before I met you." What else is there to say?

The smirk. And the eyebrows. This woman...

"And whatever does that mean?" Emma groans. She _purrs_.

"Nothing." Emma manages to say that, and then shut up. (It's the safest option right about now.)

"You sure?"

Emma nods her head. "Yep. One hundred percent. Cien. Nada problemo. Nothing else but sure."

The woman looks amused. "You don't know a shred of Spanish, do you?"

"Si."

She - chuckles? It's a deep, throaty sound that makes Emma want to just melt into a pile of goo.

"Woman," she says, "You're going to be the death of me."

She smiles, as if that was exactly what she planned to do. (It probably was.)

"That's cold, lady, ice cold." Emma grumbles petulantly. (No, she's not a child.)

"I'm sure it is."

Damn it, she's really amused with whatever she's done to Emma. And it's not good. In her opinion, anyways. "Woman, you are not a very nice lady."

"I'm sure I'm not." Is the reply.

"Lady..."

"Do you even know my name?" She asks, obviously getting ready to leave Emma.

"...No. Didn't we already go over that?"

"It's Mills, Regina Mills."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And does anybody want to suffer through being my beta? (It's not an easy task, and my friend who does it is annoyed at me)


	3. Too Hot...(For A Cup Of Coffee)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, late, I know. But I got one chapter reformatted and a whole slew of them one their way. So enjoy! Can probably expect an update on another story later this week.

“Nice to meet you Mills, Regina Mills. Name’s Bond. James Bond. That’s what we’re going for, right?”

“...No.”

“Shucks. And here I thought we could  _ bond _ over Craig and Connery together.”

“Miss...What’s your name, again?”

“Swam, Emma Swam.”

Arched eyebrow. “Swam?”

“Oops. Did I say that out loud? Sorry. Swan. Emma Swan. Now, I totally did not mess that up, was completely cool and chill, and we’re good friends now, right?” Emma scrambles to make a save, but by Ms. Bond’s face, she can tell what her words have done. As in, no. No. No. No. (That’s no in four languages)

“Lovely, Miss Swam. Now, unlike  _ some  _ people, I have a life. And in case you haven’t figured out my previous statement, that’s clearly unlike you. So, if you would, dear,” She gestures. Emma stands up. And she doesn’t know why. Because Regina still sits opposite her. On a chair. And oh, she really shouldn’t be calling her Regina in her head now, should she?

“Why am I standing up, again?”

“It’s only polite. Although, I suppose one can’t be asking much at this point from someone who has rudely asked me out upon first glancing at my face, spilled my drink, and then insulted me. You really can’t be expecting much, can you?” It’s a sharp barb, one that Emma is unwilling to take. But she admits defeat.  _ With honor, _ as Mulan would tell her. With honor.

“Sure. Goodbye, Regina.”

“It’s Ms. Mills to you.”

“Wow. Rude. Bye! But I probably was ruder, so...” And Emma waves.

Regina snorts, before turning up her nose (she’s such a snob) and departing herself. But not before giving off one more comment, meant to dig into Emma’s skin. “I do believe it’s rude to spill someone’s hot coffee all over themselves, so yes. You were much ruder.”

“Wow. Burn, girl. Turn down the hotometer, whew. Got me all hot and ready back there.” Emma fans her face dramatically. “ I’m on fire here! Cause, you know, I’m smokin’ hot.” She gestures to the rest of her body. “Everybody wants some of this.”

“Dear, there can only be one hot one per package. If you want to be hot, lose the coffee. And since I’m pretty sure that’s a cold cup...well..." And with that last parting dig, Regina is out.

(Emma just gapes.) And okay. So maybe her crush on Regina is much more than a crush. A hot bod and an acerbic wit to match? She’s screwed. Totally. 

And then her phone rings. “Hey, Emma. Got the coffee? You know, since you’ve been gone for like, oh, I don’t know, four HOURS?!” Mulan’s voice sounds angry and hungover. Since it is.

“Oops. But hey! I got hot lady who hates me’s name! It’s Mills, apparently. Regina Mills.” 

“Great.” There was no sarcasm there. Whatsoever. (Okay, so maybe a little bit) “Wait. You mean Regina Mills? As in that crazy med genius who everyone and their grandmas is trying to get a ticket to one of her lectures?”

“Mulan, you know you’re my best friend. But as a self-respecting journalist, I’m going to have to ask you to take you and your grammar and about-face your way out of this convo. Because no. That was just wrong.”

“Go away. My head feels like a tornado day care took place in it, I’m tired, and I’m pretty sure Aurora still thinks my name is Lanie. And my  _ supposed _ best friend is about four hours late with my caffeine.”

“You know that caffeine is a drug, right?”

“I swear——”

BEEP.

**-{~§~}-**

 

“Here’s your coffee!” 

“You’re about——”

“Yea, yea. I know. Do you want the coffee or not?”

“Baby!” Mulan snatches the drink our of her friend’s hands and takes a gulp. She moans in delight. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I could kiss you. Except I know you’d rather some hot——”

“Hey. I bought you that. Don’t want to——”

“And you were several hours late while doing so,  _ and _ I’m paying you back. That’s not going anywhere. Now. Spill. What’s got you all pumped up?”

Emma groans, before falling back. It was supposed to be onto a couch. Instead, she topples off her stool like an ungainly fool. Mulan would be a terrible liar if she said this was a rare occurrence. “You need to get shorter chairs. Or one’s with backs.”

Mulan waves off Emma’s words. “‘S fine. Now spill the juice.”

“What?” Emma looks confuzzled before moving on. “Well, there isn’t really that much to say. I mean, she looked rich, and in a rush. And then I spilled her coffee onto her white shirt.”

Mulan’s scrolling through her phone notifications. “Umm, babe, actually, that was a beta edition of Lagerfield’s Spring collection. Not some white shirt.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I kid you not, child of the corn.”

“Uggh. Whatever. Anyway, I volunteered to buy her a new one, we went into the shop, I got her a new one, we stared like awkward fools, she insulted me, I insulted her, she was a bitch, gave me her name, and then burned me before ditching me.” 

Mulan whistles. “Nice job. You really know how to get the girl, don’t you?”

“Oh shut up. How’s Rory doing?”

“Uggh. I’m pretty sure Maleficent has a better chance of getting her to agree to a date than I do. Again, Lanie here.” Mulan gestures to herself despondently. “I really thought I would have a chance for a good ol’ happily ever after, except it seems that she has more interest in ‘dear old Phillipie’ she ever will in me. Should probably give up. I mean, I’ve been trying for over a year, and I’m pretty sure that she still thinks I have a boyfriend. Named Shang. Weird, right?”

“Yeeeeaaaa. Kind of. And Phillipie?”

“Apparently he bought her a pie. With her name on it. And it was vegan. A+b+c=d, Phillip+pie+Aurora’s name=Phillipie.”

“Cool.”

They lapse into silence, with Mulan reverently drinking her coffee. And throughout all this, Emma is planning. She is a dastardly plotter, her high school even voting her as “Most Likely to Get Sent to Jail First”, and okay, so she did prove them right. It doesn’t mean anything. But she is planning. If everyone wants to learn about Regina Mills, what’s a journalist with a crush to do? She’s going to learn everything there is to know about one Regina Mills. And then she’s going to tell the world. Because that’s the whole point of getting to know her. Certainly not to get close to her, and maybe ask her out on a date. Right?

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea. Fun. Need a beta, people.

**Author's Note:**

> Read, review, etc. Yea. You get the drill.


End file.
